


It's A Boyband Situation

by lbopep



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Boyband AU, M/M, no seriously a boyband AU, there's cameos from other characters too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lbopep/pseuds/lbopep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>posting here from fanfiction.net- this is the boyband fic none of you were waiting for. Basically the allies are all singers from around the world, called together to form a supergroup that tests their boundaries and throws them into the surreal world of the boyband. Genuinely written to see what happens. Also includes romance too, lets see how that pans out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alfred's introduction

-January 2015-

It was after an agonising show in packed theatre with hundreds of pre-teen girls screaming his name, Alfred F Jones retired to his tiny dressing room from the sweltering heat of the spotlights. His voice was strained and his muscles were aching from a choreography-heavy set. Alfred had been a national 'pop sensation' for a year now, and half of that had been spent on tour. This was the penultimate stop on that tour, and he was spent. Endless interviews, rehearsals, photo-shoots and so much singing. The last thing that he needed was to be welcomed to his dressing room by the sight of a stranger sifting through his iPod.

'Uh, did Bill let you in? He tends to let a fan past every now and then as a prank and-'

'Excuse me for interrupting, but I have a proposition for you.'

The stranger was a young woman who seemed to have some kind of French accent, her hair loosely braided over her shoulder, wearing a neat blouse, blazer and pencil skirt. Alfred on the other hand, had been dressed in a neon blue mesh vest complete with tacky black letterman jacket and skinny jeans that were tight in all the wrong places. Somehow, Alfred felt a little overdressed.

'Woah, what's up with the formality, man, what exactly are you doing here? Who are you?'

'My name is Monique Durand, I am an international music industry chief, and I am interested in you.'

Alfred coughed and scratched his neck agitatedly.

'I don't mean to be rude but as you might have found out, I already have a manager and a label that has signed me for my ultimately short career, and I'm about to finish the tour that has been killing me for the past six months and even THEN there are still empty seats after all this stupid promo-work!'

In reaction to Alfred's minor rant, to which he himself was taken aback, Monique only raised an eyebrow.

'I can tell you are tired, Monsieur Jones, but I need you to listen to me for a moment. What I am offering is an exciting opportunity to skyrocket your career.'

'And why do you think my career hasn't skyrocketed enough already?'

I'm your new manager.' Monique deadpanned.

'Since when?! I didn't have a say in this!'

'Your manager, Bill, and I agreed that the prospects of this project are too good to risk'

'And I don't have a say in this?!'

'Oh you do, but once you hear about the project, you will definitely change your mind.'

Alfred was cautious. 'Ok then tell me.'

'What do you think about joining a group?'

'I think that's a terrible idea, did you see what happened to One Direction? Crashed and burned, just like the rest of them' Alfred shrugged.

'I am aware, but this, is very different.'

Alfred leaned forward in his seat. 'I'm listening,'

'The group is formed of five artists- from around the globe- and will be a project to ease cultural tensions between these five countries through music.'

'That's a mouthful.'

'We already know who else will be in the group- we haven't got to them yet but whether they are as… agreeable as you is another matter, but they are well known in their countries and some have an international presence of sorts- you even have some on your iPod, you know I checked earlier- Anyway, I'm sure you're a little excited by this?'

Alfred's mind was running with possibilities, Adele, Enrique Iglesias… Ok he didn't really know very many superstars who weren't American, but if these were artists at the same level as him, they wouldn't be anyone like Tom Jones or Bjork. But he apparently had some on his iPod. He rushed to grab it from the dresser Monique returned it to, but she stopped him.

'I need an answer.'

'Yeah- Yes of course! When are we gonna start?'


	2. The Kirklands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur's Introduction

Arthur gazed out of the window, into the rain that battered the passing cars and pedestrians. His brothers were fighting again. He'd be joining them, if he wasn't on vocal rest, and could use his voice for the next hour. But unfortunately he is, and he is bored. He and his brothers formed a band together because they were the only people that could put up with each other, and have been fighting ever since. Obviously most of the time it's only a little squabbling or banter, but when your siblings were all raised in different parts of the UK for most of their childhood, it can cause a few rifts. When they were young their parents and teachers thought it best to split them up as the fighting was detrimental to their education, so they were sent to boarding schools in Scotland, Wales and Northern Ireland, while Arthur stayed in London. He still had to go to boarding school, but his brothers all thought him lucky to stay reasonably close to home, so he has been on the receiving end of a lot of teasing. He knows it's only because all of them were emotionally constipated.

'Look, Andy, I just don't think suspending the drum kit 10m above the stage is a good idea!'

'Oh, don't gimme that bollocks, of course it can! And then I'd be at my rightful place as the leader of the band! If Arrrtiee-'Andy retorts, sing-songing his name '-is the front man, I can be… the TOP man!'

'That's not how it works, mate' Colin interjected from his swivel chair across the room.

'Yeah, well it's how it should work around here, I AM the oldest'

'We know you're the oldest, you don't need to keep mentioning it like there's guests around'

'Shut up Greg'

'Yeah shut up Greg'

'Colin stop joining in you are NOT even PART of this'

'ooOOOooo someone's getting their knickers in a twist'

'Oh my GOD'

'Seriously guys?' Arthur chimed in

A collective groan resounded through the room

'You're supposed to be shutting your gob for the next-'Greg checked his watch '-0 minutes. Oh. You're fine!'

'Yes, I was just  _desperate_  to get back into this stimulating conversation'

'I think we should put him back on vocal rest, don't you?' Greg suggested

'Yes what a  _marvellous_  idea old chum!' Colin replied in a mock English accent

'Why are you doing this? Why.' Arthur tried

'I think it may be  _absolutely superb_  for him to zip it  _right this instant!'_ Andrew jested.

'How do you still not get how un-posh my accent is'

This went on for quite some time until their manager/father came in with news that there was someone on the phone for Arthur.

Colin was first to intervene 'Ah! Arthur can't come to the phone now, he's on  _involuntary vocal rest_! I'll take the call for him!' Colin then lunged for the phone while Andy and Greg clamped their hands over Arthur's mouth and rugby-tackled him to the sofa.

'Ah! Hm. Yes. Mm-hm. Got it. I'm sure he'll be dee-lighted to do it! OK! Bye now!' Colin hung up.

A strangled cry was heard from behind the other two's hands.

When they released him, Arthur dived for the phone while Colin dropped it while wearing a cheeky grin on his face. Arthur wanted to find out what the hell his stupid Irish brother signed him up for. He hated doing publicity stuff. Any kind of situation that involves putting on airs to sell anything and everything is the kind of situation he hates. Sure, he can be charming, and usually that's all that's asked of a frontman, but being a sell-out is not an option for the Kirklands.

'I've got you signed up for a BOYBAND!'

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I wrote this fairly quickly to make up for the embarrassment of the first chapter
> 
> That's not to say this one is any better
> 
> If it helps:
> 
> Andy- Scotland- drums
> 
> Colin- Northern Ireland- guitar - Arthur also plays guitar while he sings but it's not necessarily rhythm guitar, he and Colin always fight over the different 'lead guitar' solos and riffs so they're pretty much equal
> 
> Greg- Wales- bass
> 
> they are a sort of rock band, like a mix between arctic monkeys, muse and a touch of 80s punk- but they are still very popular etc
> 
> If there were British-isms in there, well, I'm English so I can
> 
> Hopefully there'll be more from the Kirklands- I like writing them


	3. The Bad Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis' Intro

Francis wrung his hands nervously. Monique hadn't called him for 3 weeks, to tell him any news on the project she told him about. They had been long term friends ever since she put together the Bad Touch Trio 5 years ago, a group consisting of singers from three major European countries. Francis, Antonio and Gilbert ruled most of the continent with their pop anthems, but as with a lot of European acts, they never really broke America. That didn't bother Francis much though, he was getting more than enough fame and fortune on home soil.

About a month ago Monique told him about this new international boyband she was putting together, and that she wanted him to be a part of it. Francis thought this was a little strange, he never really saw himself as standing out in the group, the three of them were all pretty equal in terms of contribution, Antonio the cute one, Gilbert the 'bad boy' (Francis just thought he was being idiotic) and Francis was the 'extremely fashionable and gorgeous' one (his own words).

But Francis was having trouble getting his head around being in both the BTT and this new, bigger band. The others agreed that they needed a break anyway so he could do both, but he always thought that if they split up then he would start a solo career. Antonio and Gilbert were his best friends, and now he had to become friends with more bandmates? This was too much. He might not even like them. He fiddled with his loose ponytail while he was checking his phone.

'Yo Francis we're on in 3!' Gilbert yelled as he barged into his dressing room

'Merci Gilbert, I'm just fixing my hair' Francis replied

'Your hair is fine Francisco! We need to be backstage now ok?' Antonio called from the doorway

The trio were preparing for their last show before their hiatus, a performance on a popular French talk show. Francis grew more weary of his lack of information on the project, or even if it's going ahead at all. If it doesn't, this hiatus will mean nothing. He really needs that phone call.

Francis took his hair out of its ponytail and fluffed it up a bit, padded the narrow, sloping angles of his jaw and nose with his fingers and straightened up. He started to leave, psyching himself up for the show, and just when he was through the doorway he could hear the warbling tones of Edith Piaf's voice. His ringtone.

Francis couldn't leap through a doorway fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh a short one
> 
> Yes his ringtone is Edith Piaf. It's embarrassing how little I know about French music, but I assume that because Piaf is like a national treasure over there that France would be a fan. He gets embarrassed about it too.
> 
> I'm starting to think that I'm not showing their character enough in these intros, but I'm telling myself that it's because they're not all together yet, so they're either unfulfilled or not clashing with each other, which brings out their personalities, right?
> 
> Anyway, the BTT's style is more poppy, and they do a lot of synchronised dancing, they sing in mixtures of their languages and also English. They're well loved by their large European fanbase. Even though they're not popular outside of Europe, they're still cool, like they dress nice and they're not too pop-ish


	4. Ivan off of Eurovision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivan's intro

Ivan was sat alone on a row of uncomfortable airport chairs. He felt lost in a terminal he knows only too well. He had just returned from Bern in Switzerland where he competed in Eurovision 2015 to no success. Sure, he finished second, but in the world of Eurovision, that is the difference between regular stardom and superstardom. Ivan didn't necessarily care about money, he just wanted to be liked, or better: friends. All Ivan had were his two sisters and they haven't talked to him since before he started rehearsing. Ivan performed his best the day before, but then Norway had to come along with their interpretive-dance-filled techno song and stole all the points. Sometimes he thinks that his voice is too soft to be taken seriously, or that he's just generally unlikeable. No, that can't be right, he came second! Somebody has to like him, right? Ivan pondered these questions as he sat in the vast Moscow Airport.

He was popular in Russia, though, and so every now and then he could sense an onlooker sneaking a photo from where they're standing.

As he looked out into the grey surroundings, he could hear someone approaching behind him with quickening steps

'Mr Braginsky?'

'Yes?'

When Ivan turned around he saw a short man in a large winter coat and over-exaggeratedly fluffy hat, holding a sign with Ivan's name on.

'I've been waiting for you outside the terminal where all the  _normal_  people are picked up by their chauffeurs and taxis while you have been just sitting there and I've been waiting in the- yes, now it's snowing- like some kind of stupid person! Although, it's not much warmer in here either…'

Ivan instantly felt sorry for the guy, so he went over to the empty café and bought him a hot chocolate with all the extras, and followed him through the airport. It turns out that the chauffeur had watched Eurovision the night before, and they small talked about that for a while, then Ivan mentioned his sisters and a whole other discussion about family began.

'So you're sisters haven't talked to you in how long?'

'3 months'

The chauffeur sharply inhaled through his teeth. 'Yikes. I wouldn't want to come home to that'

'Ah well, they don't live with me anymore, they wanted to be more independent, you see'

'Must be rough living on your own, eh?'

'I guess, but I've always been so busy recently that I've not really noticed until, well, now', he pondered.

'But I bet it's still going to be better than having lots of noisy roommates like I had at your age'

'Mm-hm, I don't think I could survive living with roommates!' Ivan chuckled.

They reached the car a few minutes later. It really had been snowing, but it had died down to a light mist of smaller snowflakes. Ivan preferred this kind of snow to the rough, heavy snow he remembers so vividly from his childhood out in the countryside. He and his sisters had to walk a mile through sometimes blizzard-like snow flurries to get to school. He remembers Katyusha wrapping the three of them in her long scarf and his father's old coat before they set off. Sometimes he wonders if he hasn't repaid her for looking out for him and Natalya while they were smaller, but then he remembers her getting worked up about repaying him for looking after them both when he grew older and taller, and for giving her and Natalya a place to live. He supposed it's all fair now.

'Oh, before you get in, I should warn you, there's a-'

But before the chauffeur could finish, Ivan had already opened the door and moved to sit inside. Already perched on the opposite seat was a smartly dressed young woman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed after having written this that Eurovision is usually in the summer/spring, yet I spent a paragraph talking about snow, and I think Moscow isn't so cold as to snow in the summer. So there's something.
> 
> Anyway the chauffeur isn't any nation, he's just a regular Russian guy who hates the cold
> 
> Remember to imagine that all the conversation is in Russian, because I certainly forgot
> 
> Russia's music is obviously more softer pop, he can do ballads, but they're not very strong sounding. It seems like he's limited in what his voice can work with (but we'll see if it works well as part of a group- hint: yes it does)


	5. Chapter 5

Yao glanced at his watch as he sat down at his piano. His producers had once again handed him the songs to his next album, already written and composed, and waiting for Yao to perform. He had always secretly wanted a little choice in what he sung, instead of churning out ballad after ballad, and he yearned to sing some upbeat pop songs that others in the industry were doing. He began to practice, his fingers lightly pressing the keys to the introduction of his opening track, then, checking the door, slid away from the keys onto a chair and checked his email on his phone. He was so bored of practicing.

'YAO! I DON'T HEAR ANY PRACTICE IN THERE!' his manager shouted from the other room

Yao rolled his eyes and sat back at the piano, except this time he simultaneously checked his emails whenever he had a free hand.

He was supposed to be the 'Darling of the Chinese music industry', but this next album was turning out to be some garbage filled with lyrics about 'perfect girls' that are somehow supposed to relate to his demographic of regular people. It's not that he didn't like what he did, he felt he just needed a break otherwise he would end up feeling empty and purposeless.

Totally coincidentally, he came across an email that would grant him just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this is an extremely short one because I've been stuck on it for a while now, and obviously there's been christmas to focus on, and then it was my birthday, so yeah it's been a while. I've basically been stuck because I've been thinking about chapters further into the story, so I just wanted to finish up the introduction chapters and get started on the actual good bits. I'm gonna start writing them right away!  
> Also I'll be adding song/voice ideas for some chapters, like a readable musical or something, for instance this one, I think that 'This is the Last Time' by Keane works well as a song that sort of illustrates what china is feeling? the lyrics are kind of ambiguous? The singer's voice not what I imagine China's voice to be like, but there's piano in it so just imagine that he plays this out of frustration in a song break like a musical. OK? I like the thought of this fic being a musical experience if that doesn't sound too pretentious
> 
> ok so new chapter on the way, where they all meet, yippee.


	6. Chapter 6

Monaco, February

Francis had arrived last, which was surprising since he lived closest to Monaco, but he thought that maybe if he arrived later then he would avoid any awkward waiting around with strangers, and can check them all out as a whole. He didn't have any clue as to what they would be doing at this first meeting, but he was excited all the same. In this room, there are four possibly life-changing people, for the better or for worse. Or this whole thing could fail completely and be an embarrassment for all of their careers, but Francis didn't want to think about that too much.

Before he got to the room he was approached by Monique

"You be sure not to incite any conflicts that would achieve the opposite of what we're trying to do here."

"Why, is that a possibility?"

"See for yourself." Monique sighed as she opened the door for Francis.

Immediately upon entering, he was hit by one loud, American voice.

"Wait so you're from Russia? OH MAN THAT IS SO COOL! YOU GOTTA TELL ME ALL ABOUT IT!"

The room he had entered had a sofa, some instruments and a small circle of chairs in the centre, currently occupied by four very different men.

Francis looked around the room at is new bandmates. His eye went straight to the source of the noise, a young blonde man emphatically waving his hands at a large (well Francis could only assume, he seemed to be wearing a lot of layers), distressed looking man, who turned his head to Francis when he entered as if to plea for help. Sat next to him was a Chinese man who seemed to be dwarfed by the American and the Russian, chipping in every now and then to give his opinion on the situation, even if it wasn't needed. Lastly, Francis's gaze drew to the final man in the room, another blonde, who was currently slumped in his chair, and while being sat in the circle of chairs with the others, looked distant in comparison. Although, upon entering the room, along with the Russian, he had turned to Francis and was staring at him inquisitively.

After a few seconds all eyes were on Francis. The American stood up and held out his hand to him.

"Hi there! I'm Alfred Jones, from America if you can't tell already. And you?"

Francis shook his hand with an easy smile. "Francis Bonnefoy, France"

"Huh! Well that's great! Looks like this is the full set then, Monique!" Alfred exclaimed towards Monique, who was still waiting by the door.

"Yes, Alfred, this is everyone. Well, I'm going to be taking my leave- but before I go, I'll give you some things I've already organised." She handed them a folded piece of paper. "Now you five get on with getting to know each other." Monique promptly left the room, shutting the door behind her.

"Well, I was only sucked into this thing by accident so I'm probably going to be leaving in-"

Arthur was interrupted by the rather inconspicuous sound of the door being locked.

Monique's glare peered through the window of the door accompanied with an eerie thumbs up.

"What the hell is going on?!" Yao whined.

"Wait a sec, guys, we should really read the paper before we start assuming things like we've been trapped in this room by a madwoman forever. I'll read it out:" Alfred assured.

" _I've trapped you in this room for the night. Francis probably hasn't told you that I am a madwoman. LOLZ._

_BTW I've assigned you all 'classic boyband' roles:_

_Alfred: the leader_

_Arthur: the heart-throb_

_Francis: the feminine one_

_Ivan: baby spice_

_Yao: high notes_

_Chew on that suckas"_

Alfred coughed, "Well, uh… she didn't say forever?"

"Why do I get heart-throb?" Arthur piped up

"Why does  _he_ get heart-throb?!" Francis half-yelled

"What's a baby spice?"

"Wha- HIGH NOTES?!" Yao practically screeched.

"That's awfully blunt isn't it, not like Mr Femininity over here" Arthur scoffed while elbowing Francis

"Oh! That's what I know you from! That stupid British band filled with those rude ugly brothers!" Francis spat back

"Oh really? I think this 'heart throb' thing says otherwise"

"What kind of heart throb has eyebrows like that?!"

"Oh really, you're going for eyebrows now? What are you, 12?"

"I think that we should ignore these role things and figure out how we're escaping…" Yao interjected

Alfred laughed, "Nah dude I'm sure it'll all work out- I mean, she made me the leader right? This is bound to fix itself!"

"I'm not so sure about that…" Ivan quietly added

Arthur groaned loudly "I hope there's alcohol around here somewhere because I don't think I'd be able to stand the lot of you without the glorious trickery of drunkenness."

"Well it's your lucky day Kirkland! There appears to be a bar of sorts in the corner" Francis laughed sourly as he pointed to what looked like a cardboard box full of cheap cans of beer on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter is probably going to be much better, I have an idea for it, i just have to write it properly ha
> 
> on another note, i did some arduous research (scoured youtube) and found a russian pop song that sounds like a soft-ish voice to fit with the head-canon voice i have for Ivan- a mix of the ridiculously soft and child-like japanese voice actor's voice with the dub's more realistic (?) voice and it is called:
> 
> Дима Билан - Дотянись
> 
> any fans of russian music out there that can tell me if this guy is like the Russian version of Enrique Iglesias because I totally see it
> 
> I did the same kind of research for Chinese pop singers but I couldn't find any male artists that had a high voice or female artists that didn't sound distinctly female, you see my problem


	7. The N*Sync chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> exactly nearly what it says on the tin

After about an hour of furious drinking- an unspoken competition between the bickering Arthur and Francis- the atmosphere had calmed down significantly. Alfred was still in his chair talking animatedly at Ivan, who was beginning to take part in the conversation for the first time, and Yao was wondering why they were all put together. What made them all more suited for an international super-group than anyone else? They were neither superstars nor nobodies, they had large fanbases, yes, but nothing outrageous. Why has Monique chosen these five?

Arthur and Francis were slumped on the sofa. The arguing had reduced to slurred murmuring.

"I cannot believe you think that French music is worse than British music when you probably haven't even bothered to learn the language, let alone listen to it." Francis muttered vaguely in Arthur's direction.

Arthur looked over at Francis. "Qui dit que je n'ai pas?" (Who says I haven't?)

The Frenchman looked positively distraught at the knowledge that Arthur spoke French. Arthur presented Francis with the smuggest grin he had ever seen.

After a few seconds he managed to reply: "Eh, tout cela signifie, c'est que nous pouvons nous battre en français maintenant" (Hey, all this means is that we can fight in French now)

"GUYS Guys guys listen, listen man, y'all have been fighting a helluva lot- helluva- hella lot-…a lot, but Monique or Monica or whatever said we needed to bond!" Alfred slurred, apparently when Arthur and Francis were busy fighting, they weren't the only ones drinking. "and this-" He gestured vaguely with pointed fingers at the two of them "this ain't looking like bonding to me. Look, guys, there's a whole bunch of instruments here, we all seem suffic-..Enough drunk, so let's come on and play some damn music!"

"Welllll…" Yao began, dragging the 'L', "what could we  _possibly_  agree to sing?"

Alfred, having shakily stood up, was facing away from the group. "Why…it's oblivious- obvious- isn't it?"

"Um, no?" tried Ivan, surprisingly loudly.

"Well, everybody loves 'NSync don't they?"

"Oh  _mon dieu_ "

"Wait, Alfred, aren't you, like 19? Isn't the drinking age in the US 21?" Arthur asked once he was set up with the guitar.

"Nah, man it's cool, I'm, like, taller than most of you, therefore its toootally fine"

"I'm not sure that-"

"OKAY!" Alfred clapped his hands together, cutting Arthur off, "OBVIOUSLY I'll be singing all of Justin Timberlake's parts, uuuhm Arthur can be JC, uh, and you guys are the ones that basically harmonise in the background"

"What, you mean Lance, Joey and Chris?" Ivan corrected.

Everyone swivelled around, albeit carefully, to look at Ivan with raised eyebrows.

"Oh come on, it's not like you guys aren't secretly 'Nsync fans either" Ivan said, with alcohol fuelled confidence.

There was a few seconds of muttering and nods of the head, and it was discovered that really, they all liked 'Nsync. I mean, who doesn't?

"Wait so you don't know 'Baby Spice' but you can list the members of Nsync just like that?!" Arthur exclaimed.

"Ok, we all clear?" Alfred called, almost forgetting he was drunk, "We should sing Bye Bye Bye first because DUH it's the coolest one, I mean, they were all dressed up like puppets, like, on strings 'n shit" finished Alfred, remembering he was drunk.

* * *

(HEY NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO GO ON YOUTUBE OR WHATEVER AND LISTEN TO BYE BYE BYE WHILE READING THIS NEXT PART)

Once Alfred turned on the song on his ipod, after they realised that none of them knew the notes on the instruments for the song, they began.

However, once Alfred had done the opening 'hey-eeeey' complete with a (drunk) finger wiggle, the others started to snigger and break out in (drunk) giggles during the first 'bye bye bye'.

Francis tried to remember the way the song went and realised Arthur had the first verse. This would actually be a good way of assessing how good each of them were, and give him a chance to be better than Arthur at singing if he was as bad at singing as Francis hoped, which he could laugh at him about later, except-

"iiiiii'm doing this tonight…."

 _Shit. He's good. This ruins everything._ Francis looked over at Arthur during the rest of the verse to gage how serious he's being.  _Maybe if he's trying to hard I can say that he isn't as good a singer when he's not really trying- wait that is a terrible comeback what are you thinking?_ Except, when he got a good look at his face and posture he could tell he was pulling faces and doing ironically bad boyband dance moves- he wasn't serious at all. In fact he seemed drunker than ever.  _Oh and now he's harmonising with Alfred. Great. He's fucking good at that too._

Francis didn't know how it got to him and Arthur irritating each other so much, but he did know that knowing Arthur was actually good at singing and not just some  _stupid British band singer_ was making his blood boil (and race- but he'll never admit to it). With his stupid scruffy hair and stupid gorgeous singing voice. God, what a dick.

* * *

 

(OK YOU CAN STOP LISTENING TO NSYNC IF YOU WANT, BUT NOW THERE'S GOING TO BE A TIME JUMP SO I'D LIKE YOU TO IMAGINE THEM SINGING OTHER NSYNC SONGS REALLY DRUNK, SUCH AS 'IT'S GONNA BE ME', 'I'LL NEVER STOP', 'POP', 'TEARIN UP MY HEART' ETC-)

Monique returned to the locked room to see Yao lying on the floor, Ivan slumped in his chair, Arthur sat on the floor cross-legged with the guitar, Francis barely standing behind the keyboard and Alfred beginning to sing 'This I Promise You'

(HEY FRIENDLY SUGGESTION TO LISTEN TO IT WHILE READING AGAIN)

Arthur had already played the first notes while Alfred tried his best to mimic the classic boyband ballad movements from his chair.

When it got to the first chorus Monique was surprised that Ivan and Yao joined in the harmonies even though she thought they were passed out.

It seemed like they were so drunk that they were doing this completely seriously, with all the emotion of 5 tired, emotional drunk guys trapped in a room multiplied by 10.

When it got to Arthur's parts, he was so into it that he sometimes forgot to keep playing the guitar at the same time, while the others were too into it to even notice.

However, despite the amount of alcohol affecting the occupants of the room, Monique counted this as not only a success on the bonding side of things, but a good assessment of just how good they could be when they want to- except maybe a better test would be when they were sober. Fortunately, Monique spied Alfred's phone stood on a table facing the group, as if it were filming them.

She picked up the phone and found that Alfred had recorded each of the songs they had performed. Monique decided that she should send the videos to her own cell phone so she could watch the earlier songs, when they weren't as drunk and actually- as Monique looked back at them- awake, as now Arthur, the last one standing/sitting, finally let his eyes close and collapsed into the legs of the chair next to him, which in turn knocked into the one next to that and the one next to that and made such an obnoxious clattering noise that they all snapped awake again.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am very sorry if you hate NSync haha
> 
> what if i called this 'the NSync chapter' (AO3 EDIT: I did)
> 
> So, what did you think of such an 'interactive' chapter? I figured that it'd be cooler to listen to the songs you're supposed to imagine them singing while you read what's going on at the same time, or listen then read or vice versa. I certainly listened to a lot of NSync while writing this. You're welcome.
> 
> also you might have figured out that Ivan at this point isn't as confident as he is in canon, but that's because he isn't used to them yet. He'll be back to his usual self once he's warmed up to them. Also he gets more confident with them when he's drunk because it's like, liquid confidence or something, right?
> 
> I don't know, I think I shouldn't have written it like they were having a lot of fun getting drunk, because that sounds like it's glorifying alcohol abuse or something, and even then I'm not exactly experienced with alcohol so all I know and wrote is from TV or other fanfics, but I was only really making them mess up their words and act only slightly differently. I dunno, just don't be persuaded to be alcoholic or something from reading such a shitty fanfic, ok?
> 
> Also I made Alfred get a hint of a southern drawl when he is tipsy, what's up with that?
> 
> I just realised that I should probably ask for reviews or something so you guys can tell me what I'm doing wrong, so could you do that please?


	8. The one after the N*SYNC chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I literally could not think of a better title

Alfred finally reached his building. It wasn't exactly the most expensive end of town, but he didn't see any reason why he would need a fancier set up just because he was a pop star. Also he couldn't really imagine not living with his roommate, Kiku. Alfred and Kiku had lived together since Kiku transferred over from Japan 5 years prior, and they've been close friends ever since.

As he dragged his luggage up the stairs, he reminisced about his and Kiku's time together. At first, Kiku was very reserved and aggressively shy, and wasn't used to the American lifestyle. He constantly marvelled at the way Alfred would go about his day, what he ate, how he sped through chores and his loud reactions to the TV. However, now Kiku would eat more fast food, be more relaxed about cleaning, exclaim at the TV and sometimes even join Alfred at dancing when a particularly catchy song starts to play. He'd really loosened up, in Alfred's opinion. It was definitely less awkward, although he did have his moments where he would apologise too much for insignificant things, or blush profusely over the mere mention of sex, which is unfortunate because he lives in a culture where sex sells and therefore is absolutely everywhere. The more Alfred thinks about it, the more he thinks about how amazing Kiku is, when they'd spend all night watching horror films and playing video games, or simply just enjoying each other's company. Without being too candid, Alfred could even call them soulmates.

 _Standing right outside your shared apartment about to walk in is not the right time to realise you love your roommate._ Alfred cursed to himself as he put his key in the lock, praying Kiku wouldn't be home to see the schoolboy blush rising on his cheeks, or the panicked expression in his eyes. He'd be sure to worry, or assume the worst about his trip to Monaco.

 _Ah, the trip to Monaco. The band. Yes, think about that, that's pretty big. Not as big as the freaking huge crush you have on a guy who you're about to walk in on. Calm, think of Mattie, that always neutralises your thoughts. How is Mattie? I bet he's doing fine up in Toronto…_ Alfred snapped out of his thoughts to the sound of the door unlocking.

"Alfred-san! You're back! And you're in the way!"

Alfred looked down at the smaller man, who was dressed to go out, as Kiku often did- it was natural for him to put effort into his outfit when leaving the house, but dress in the complete opposite when staying indoors.

"Now is that really the way to greet your roommate after not seeing him for a week? 'You're in the way!' you're really getting the hang of being in New York!"

"It's been 5 years, Al! I think I count as a New Yorker at least a little bit" Kiku laughed.

Alfred dropped his bags and swung his arms up to embrace Kiku in a warm hug.

"God I missed you."

Alfred just figured the best way to deal with it would be to gradually become more and more affectionate until he loves him back, or until Kiku rejects him and ruins his life. This was going to take a while.

* * *

3 weeks later

Alfred had gotten the email only a few days before, that the next meeting would be in New York, and they would be writing and producing a song over the course of a week, then do some promotional work like the announcement, the interviews and so on indefinitely. It all seemed to be happening so fast, but at least it's in New York rather than Europe.

He remembered what happened when they first met, except what he did remember didn't amount to much, due to the alcohol involved, he recalled meeting them all, Arthur and Francis arguing and for some reason, everyone was singing NSync, but that sounded too good to be true to Alfred, so he just assumed that it was a drunken imagining.

He arrived at the building at the address he was given, and was directed to a large elevator. Once the elevator jolted to a stop, the doors opened to reveal a large run-down looking room, with exposed brick walls and old grey floorboards, except it seemed to be furnished expensively, with a cushy living room area, complete with beanbags, sofas and a TV, a dining area, and in the space furthest away from Alfred, were the rest of his bandmates who appeared to be writing a song. Without him. Rude.

"Hey you couldn't at least wait for me to arrive first!" Alfred called out.

Arthur looked up from the notepad they were gathered around, "Relax, we've only managed to do the chorus"

"And the chords for the verses" added Ivan.

"And the melody" Yao also added.

"How come you're getting on better than last time?" Alfred questioned.

"We're not" Francis replied, not looking up from the notepad, "We just want the song to sound right, we are all musicians after all."

"Oh, ok, that makes more sense." Alfred commented before joining them around the table. At least he could have some input on the verses, if anything.

After about 3 hours they had written the rest of lyrics and sorted out the harmonies. It turns out that Monique had given them more freedom than they thought in terms of composing, but Alfred hadn't ever really written songs for himself, as did Yao and Ivan, but Arthur and Francis' bands wrote all their own stuff, so they happened to be the resident experts when it came to song writing. Yao had always wanted to write his own music, and he was starting to get more excited about the prospects of this group. It'll prove to his producers that he can do his own thing and take control of his musical direction.

Monique arrived later, once they'd finalised the song, and they performed it for her acoustically. As they played, Arthur could tell this would be a hit, but not only that, the song just felt gorgeous to sing. He hadn't sang as part of a vocal group before, and their voices together just worked- the harmonies, the tones, the sound of their voices combined just flowed like they'd sang together for years and it was refreshing like they were on an entirely new wavelength. The personalities of the others? Well, he'll just have to adapt.

Luckily, Monique liked the song, and they moved to the studio that was also part of the set up Monique had on this floor, where they mixed the synth and recorded the instruments- Arthur volunteered to play the electric guitar and the bass for the track (because he plays both of them, and wanted to be even more involved in the process than just providing his voice). Francis watched with the others while Arthur played into the equipment via complex cables and systems that made hardly any sense to any of them.

After Arthur had done providing instrumental layers, they added the electronic layers, the synth, until it was finished enough to start adding vocals.

Due to Monique's arrangements, it had been generally agreed that Alfred would start, because if they started with the American, it wouldn't alienate the American audience, who were their first target as the American music industry generally influence what's listened to around the world (if the artist is popular enough). Also Monique had designated Alfred as the 'leader', so he had to 'lead'.

After another couple of hours recording and mixing, the final product was ready and Arthur was right, it was simply gorgeous to listen to. Monique immediately began sorting out how they were going to announce the supergroup while the supergroup in question went off to their separate quarters. It just so happened that instead of booking a hotel for an indeterminate length of time, Monique had literally set them up in their own floor of a high rise building in New York, it wasn't just a studio.

"Alfred you know you don't have to stay here with them, you live relatively close to here, you can just come back tomorrow." Monique said, in between important phone calls.

"That's ok, I brought my overnight stuff, so I can stay here too, I'm sure my roommate wouldn't mind" Alfred responded, thoughts returning back to his roommate. Maybe some time away would help him clear his head and prevent him from making any embarrassing slip-ups in front of Kiku. He'd just need to collect more of his things tomorrow and he'll be set.

Monique finished her last call and turned to Alfred again "Ok I've got the band booked for a major TV show in a couple of weeks, that'll give us time to rehearse, promote and co-ordinate, the TV show will be where we make the announcement. It'll shock everyone- it's insane but it's worked in the past"

"Wait but what is the band called? No-one's going to be able to tell anyone to check us out if they have no idea what we're called"

"I have no idea…how about we just keep it as 'International Supergroup' until we think of something catchier"

"Uh, sure. Well g'night!" Alfred called as he went off to try to find his room.

"Good night, Alfred." Monique replied "..And good luck, me" she finished to herself, once she was left in the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, you'll just have to wait until they perform it to know what the song I've chosen for them
> 
> It's probably useful to know that unless the original artist is mentioned in the fic, any song they 'write' that already exists irl is an 'original' song in this AU- so for instance, NSync existed in this AU, because they referenced them, but the original artist of this song that they're 'writing' in this chapter does not exist in the AU. Also I probably should put that I don't own any songs or copyrights or whatever that are mentioned or used in this fanfic, it's all just to add to the reading experience
> 
> Also I genuinely have no idea what the supergroup should be called, so any suggestions would be greatly appreciated! I'm thinking perhaps something that says that it's a supergroup or is international or something
> 
> AND apologies for the lack of FrUK this chapter, I promise I'll make the entire next one from only their perspective. I mean, I felt guilty about the lack of promised Ameripan for the rest of the fic so i tried to make up for it this chapter, so the next one will be FrUK.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i guess in this chapter there is some banter and a photoshoot

Arthur woke up the next morning to the sound of a certain loud American's voice resonating off of the various ceramics of the bathroom down the hall. And what could he possibly be singing other than Rick Astley. He bloody rickrolled everyone first thing in the morning. Arthur barely had time to put on a shirt before he heard a vicious, growling shout from across the hallway.

"ALFRED! MON DIEU I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND!"

Arthur quickly finished getting shirt on (while simultaneously walking into a few pieces of furniture as he untangled his arms into the sleeves) and stumbled into the corridor to be met with a Frenchman with the stormiest expression and most ridiculous bedhead he'd ever seen.

"Sounds like someone isn't a morning person" Arthur yawned

"Oh casse-toi, batard"

Arthur thought it best to avoid confrontation with what he thought was Francis- almost unrecognisable without his smug expression and poise- and went out in search of breakfast. He scavenged the cupboards to soundtrack of Francis pounding his fists onto the bathroom door while Alfred continued singing. Arthur couldn't tell whether he had noticed or not- that is, until he heard him punctuating the lyrics every now and then with obnoxious laughter.

"I WILL TEAR YOUR VOCAL CHORDS OUT OF YOUR FUCKING THROAT! ARRÊTEZ!"

"Alright, Alright, just hold on a sec, man"

The sound of the water being hastily turned off and rustling clothes preceded the door swinging open to reveal Alfred with wet hair and…glasses?

"Alfred I swear to god- You wear glasses? Since when?" Francis seemed to snap out of the blinding rage he was in before to curiously prod at the steamed up frames resting on the American's nose.

"Uh, it's a- funny story actually, I-"

"Alfred you didn't tell us you wear glasses" Arthur called from the kitchen area, making it obvious he had been listening in the whole time (well it's not like he couldn't hear the yelling anyway- also it was funny to witness an argument with Francis where he wasn't taking part for once)

"Well, uh, I do? Ok great, we got that out the way, see ya later!" Alfred nervously attempted to sidle out of the doorway to avoid the subject.

"Wait, so you've worn contacts the entirety of your career?" Francis persued

"Not really, I've just been going short-sighted the whole time"

"That is ridiculous!" Yao's muffled voice said from inside his room

"I cannot believe you could be so stupid" Ivan called from his seat opposite Arthur, who promptly jumped out of his as he had been too caught up in the conversation that he hadn't noticed Ivan joining him at the breakfast table.

"Guys I think we should all calm down a sec and pretend we never found out about my glasses, alright?"

"Do you not like your glasses?" Francis asked.

"I don't know, they're just, not part of my image- also they make me look old"

"There is no possible way to make you look any older, Alfred" Arthur drawled sardonically

Alfred waved that off, "Anyway I'm gonna get ready, see you guys later, we got a big day ahead!"

Monique had booked them all in to have photoshoots for the teasers they would be releasing mysteriously around the world- she runs one of the biggest record labels in the world, she can make this boyband as big as she wants, and she wants this boyband to be so huge that by putting secret hints in various 5 second time slots on various major tv channels, she can get the world awaiting any peep of information about this global supergroup. Sure, she's going to be on the receiving end of a lot of questions about the fact that they're from the five countries of the Allied forces in WWII, and no-one from certain continents or races, but she's just going to tell them the facts: that she saw them sing separately and thought they'd sound good together. The international thing wasn't a gimmick, it was just a radical way of recruiting band members.

Ivan was nervous. He'd never had to be very photogenic before, and he knew his smile could get people unnerved, even if he really tried to make it look friendly- it just comes out menacing. Not only that but he didn't know how to pose or anything. He felt like the opposite of Alfred. They were all being prepped and made over for the shoot, and all five of them were lined up in front of mirrors, ignoring eachother while stylists intensely discuss what to do about Arthur's hair.

Ivan leaned over towards Arthur's chair, who was nearest. "Can you give me some advice?"

"Uh, sure Ivan, anything to blank out the suggestion that they perm my hair"

"I don't think I'm very good with photos'

'Ah, I see, you need help with smiling or something, right?"

"Is it that obvious that I need help?"

Arthur gave him a raised eyebrow. "Da."

"Well how do I make it look less scary?"

"I'm not sure exactly- I guess you should probably stop trying so hard and maybe try smiling genuinely, uuuh," Arthur looked to his left for an example, only to be met with Francis, who was getting his lengthy blonde hair being in his opinion, massacred (only trimmed by a couple of centimetres) with a look of horror on his face. "Francis. Do us a favour and smile at Ivan, I'm helping him be more photogenic."

"Ah, I see you needed a real master to teach him properly, non?" Francis swished his now shoulder-length hair exaggeratedly

Arthur squinted at him with an expression of annoyance "Just show him a smile, will you?"

"It would be my pleasure" Francis answered in mock politeness, and leaned forward in his chair to get in Ivan's field of vision. He then flashed him his classic smile he used for photo-ops and seduction- they go hand-in-hand in this business, in his opinion.

"Now, Ivan, this is an example of a  _fake_  smile," Arthur recommenced, gesturing to Francis' now confused face, "you shouldn't do this- you'll look like a dick."

"Hey! My smile is not fake! I have seduced many people with this smile!"

"Exactly." Arthur continued, "Really, this is going to be a much wider audience than whatever Francis picks up when he's feeling particularly lonesome in the evenings- this is the whole world, you want to show your real personality. Now, Francis, give us your genuine smile."

"That was my genuine smile" Francis spat

"Non, ton sourire sincère, c'est quand tu es heureux, ou rire, tu canard stupide" Arthur broke into French to get his point across to him- he emphasised the last part as an over-exaggerated impression of the Frenchman.

"Canard stupide?!" Francis couldn't help but let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of that insult "Did you make that up?!" He laughed, unintentionally revealing the genuine smile Arthur was trying to coax out of him in the first place.

"There you go, Ivan, take note- it'll be gone in a second when he realises I've won" Arthur at back in his chair admiring his handiwork- Francis really did have a nice smile when he didn't mean to. What he hadn't realised was what the stylist was doing to his hair- somehow he had managed to tame it into staying pushed back, and had styled it in a way that kept it's messiness but made it less 'bird's nest' and more 'actually fashionable'. Arthur had only ever dreamed of style like this.

"How on earth did you manage that? I can  _never_  get my hair to do anything, what did you do to it?!"

"I, uh, just used some product in it?" the stylist answered confusedly

" _Aaah._  That makes sense. I actually never tried that."

The photoshoot began with them all doing solo shots. The clothes they had to wear had been co-ordinated together, obviously, and they were going to wear them in the music video for the debut single, so the teasers would lead up to it. The outfits all incorporated a deep blue and had a 'dusting' of what they assumed were fake diamonds appliqued on the shoulders and on some of the edges. They looked spectacular, Alfred in a deep blue suit and a dark grey t-shirt underneath, Arthur in a blue, form-fitting waistcoat and black trousers, Francis in a black tux blazer with blue trousers, a white shirt and blue sparkly tie, Yao in an all-black tux with a white shirt, unbuttoned at the top, and Ivan in a fitted blue double-breasted jacket, lightly sparkled cream scarf and black trousers. Someone had put a lot of thought into this.

Alfred was first, and instantly got into the cheesiest possible pose with the widest, whitest smile he could muster. He was then told that that wasn't quite the look they were going for. They wanted mysterious or cool, at least a little grown-up. Alfred soon got the picture and posed with his hands on his lapels and head raised a little, looking down to the camera. The cheesy smile was gone, and replaced with a small smirk in the corner of his lips. He couldn't wait to show Kiku how grown up and badass he thought he looked.

Arthur was next. He had to pose facing at a slightly different angle, as all of these solo shoots would be put together in the end. He's had to do photoshoots before, but never any as glamourous as this, and certainly never with his hair looking this way. He knows his brothers are going to shit themselves when they see this- he hasn't told them much about this thing, they only know that they forced him into doing it and that he jetted off to New York for an unspecified length of time. Yes, they'll definitely shit themselves when they see this.

It was Francis' turn after that, and he had to pose at the opposite angle to Arthur, as they were going to be on either side of Alfred, like some kind of 'Team Rocket' style set-up or something. He thought about using his usual smile, but after hearing what Arthur had to say about it, he thought it best to just go for serious/cool. It's a new band, so a new style, right? He thought back to the 'roles' Monique had assigned them when they first met. He was pretty sure they were a joke, but he thought maybe he needed to look a little more… well, not 'feminine', as Monique so crudely put it, but perhaps… graceful, or elegant. Francis raised his eyebrows a little more and lowered his eyelids slightly, to try to get the effect.

Yao and Ivan had to face even further outward than the others. They were aware that they could be regarded as less 'important' than the other three, but they were okay with that. They'd have their moments in the spotlight, and they didn't necessarily want to be in it all the time. At the same time, however, they also knew that because the band is all about the different countries, it would cause a lot of discussion if certain nationalities were regarded higher than others, so they were sure that they would definitely not be left out, and get treated equally. It was just in this case, that they were on the far sides of the group. Or, disregarding all of that, it was probably just about the heights. Arthur and Francis were the same height, so they needed to be on either side of the middle, and Alfred was a little shorter than Ivan, so it sort of made sense that the shortest and the tallest were on either end. Did it? It doesn't matter.

Monique checked in just as they finished the group shots.

"Ah, guys, change of plan, we're going to shoot the video now."

"What?!" they all said in unison.

"Yep, we've pretty much planned out what we're gonna make it look like, and most of it is in editing and post-production so all we need is lots of shots of you guys singing the song and we'll add all the effects and cool stuff afterwards" She explained coolly "The cameras and stuff are just coming now"

"But we don't have any choreography!" Francis exclaimed, he was too used to having dance routines with the BTT.

"Yes, but this way it's more spontaneous, we'll get your genuine dancing and emotion that you express when you perform this song. We want the world to see you as genuine as possible"

"So we'll be actually singing along then?" Ivan asked

"Yes, no lip-syncing"

"Fair enough. We have to shoot our very first music video together, without any preparation or guidelines and it's going to be shown to millions of people around the world." Arthur remarked. "Brilliant. Bloody brilliant."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's moving pretty slowly isn't it?
> 
> I guess I just want to describe every little thing in detail, like in my head I feel the need to explain everything that's going on? so that's why there re lengthy paragraphs about what is happening without a lot of thought put into description or making it pleasant to read in any way. I think it's because I want other people to imagine exactly the same thing I am, without having to wax poetic about the decor or whatever. In coming chapters I guess I'll try to write more descriptively. Oh and of course to include more Japan, I tend to leave him out now by accident oops!
> 
> Reviews are still always welcome!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy?
> 
> BTW Their debut single is 'Living in the Sky with Diamonds' by Cobra Starship so listen to that while reading, kay?

May

The first teaser trailer to air was a 5 second ad spot that began with just the words 'Get Ready' in white on a black background, then the first 3 seconds of the song play as the silhouettes of the band's solo shots side by side slowly fade in, dimly backlit enough to make out the outlines of each of them, then suddenly clipped back to black with the first snap-snap of the drums- then it was gone. Just a 5 second slot, on the most popular national channels (that have commercials/ads) of the 5 countries of the band's origin and many others around the world.

Just a 5 second commercial with no explanation, shown at peak viewing times. What kind of hype could possibly arise because of that?

Well, a lot.

Within hours of the American TV spot airing (because time zones, man. Time. Zones.), innumerable crazy theories and reactions surfaced online, from terrorist threats to alien contact, some even coming up with the wild assumption that it could be something to do with music. The interest was garnered.

Over the course of the next week, all of their promo shots are revealed one by one in a crazy hype-building strategy, and so the boyband had begun officially

Saturday night, at 8pm GMT, the music video premiered on youtube.

(This would be a good time to listen to the song while reading!)

-all white background, blurry figures come into focus- guess what it's the band- they're all facing away from the camera-

The shot changes to focus on Alfred, who turns around and begins the song

'Her heart, is racing…and the room is heating up…'

Alfred looks down the camera and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth when he hears Arthur and Francis join in with the low vocals

'The beat is pumping now she's blowing up- blowing up'

'The last thing on her mind is growing up- growing up'

'She'll kiss the sky before she's giving up'

'And oh-oh here she comes..'

-As the chorus begins the background drops to black with the bass and seemingly thousands of computer generated sparks of light (or 'diamonds' if you like) appear to fly up and suspend in mid-air around the band, who are singing and dancing and whatever, and look like they're having the time of their lives-

(I'm pretty much just going to leave it to you to imagine the rest as you listen to the song because I'm one of those people who can visualise exactly what they're talking about but lacks the words and/or artistic prowess to show you what I mean. Time jump in 3, 2, 1…)

A week later, and the debut's release was a huge success, the song was well on its way to number one in several countries, which is handy when you're intended demographic is, well, global. The quintet were sitting around Alfred and Kiku's apartment after an over-enthusiastically organised party invitation to celebrate the crazy success they were having. Of course there had been numerous press conferences, launch parties and interviews, but this was the first time they had managed to really celebrate after the whirlwind experience. Unfortunately, it would only be counted as 'celebrating' if they actually enjoyed each other's company.

Currently, Francis was sprawled on one of the sofas with a glass of wine, Yao was slumped in an armchair avoiding eye-contact, Ivan was in the opposite armchair trying to get some eye-contact, and Arthur and Kiku were talking animatedly, cross-legged on the floor. It turns out that they got on like a house on fire.

Kiku Honda was actually a journalist, and coincidentally wrote for a music magazine, so he went to a lot of gigs and interviewed a lot of artists, albeit only locally so far. Luckily Alfred was relatively new to the music world and so the paparazzi hadn't found out where he lived, so for now Kiku could get away with pretending that he didn't live with one of the most in-demand artists for interviews. It was all very hush-hush. As it turns out, The Kirklands was one of Kiku's favourite bands at the time, and they had strikingly similar music tastes so they were becoming fast friends.

Francis found this disgusting.

Just as Francis had that epiphany, Alfred burst through the door behind a stack of 5 pizzas and 3 over-filled bags containing too many snacks and too little anything else.

"EYOOO! Guess whose back! I have got SO MUCH pizza it's unreal."

The sharp tones of Alfred's voice snapped Francis out of his temporary bubble of bitterness and pushed him into a new bubble of vague annoyance.

"Alfred, cher, we don't want to die of heart attacks before we get a number 1, do we? Did you at least buy a healthier option?"

"If by 'healthy' you mean pop-tarts then yes, yes I did"

Alfred put the bags down onto the coffee table in the middle of the living room and dropped down onto the sofa with as much force it would take to make Francis move his legs out of the way. Arthur turned to address Alfred

"I suppose you didn't get any alcohol because you're a child, yes?"

"You're only like 4 years older than me, dude"

Arthur put his hand to his chest in a mock-sentimental manner, "And yet, I am so much wiser" pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. And then reached for the bottle of wine Francis had smuggled in with him.

It took precisely 3 minutes and 33 seconds before Ivan suggested suddenly: "We should play Truth or Dare."

Now, dear reader, we all know that in fictions of these sorts, a well-used go-to plot device is the classic Truth or Dare. But what would this cheesy boyband AU be without cliché's? If anything, I am  _obliged_ to include every cliché under the sun. And anyway, they might just happen to want to play Truth or Dare, is that a crime? Can you allow these characters to forget the surrealism of the situation and genuinely believe they want to play the games of high school girls of the late 90s? It's not that much to ask, surely. Go on, suspend belief, hang up your cynicism hat and let them get on with it. Also forgive me for distracting you while I jump ahead in the narrative to when they are well into the game, so I didn't need to describe the way they began it. But be honest, that would have been awfully boring, wouldn't it?

Using the now empty wine bottle propped up on an also empty pizza box, the game had reached full swing. In the previous turn, Ivan was dared to belly-dance to whatever song was on the radio, which happened to be their song, as a nice surprise. Ivan reached over spin the bottle, which landed on Alfred.

"Tru-"

"DARE" Alfred cut him off in excitement. Alfred had turned out to be one of those annoying kids who always picks dare no matter what.

"…Ok I dare you toooo….." Ivan looked around in thought. His eyes eventually landed on Arthur whose expression duly turned sour.

"I've got it! I dare you to do a British accent, go!"

Arthur raised his eyebrows "What the f-"

"I SAY, OLD CHAP ISN'T THIS THE PUR-FECT DAY TO GO FOR A SPOT OF TEA-AND-CRICKET?" Alfred beamed in a mixture of American and English vowel sounds.

Arthur's expression changed from surprised and worried to surprised and amusedly astounded.

"Holy shit that was terrible but  _hilarious"_

Francis tsk-ed and said "Oh come on, a posh accent, c'est très  _ennuyeux_ _"_ He put his wine glass down and cleared his throat. "CORR BLOIMEE GUVNAA, APPLES N PEARS, APPLES N PEARS, FANNY IS YOUR UNCLE AND BOB IS YOUR AUNT" He practically sang in an awful combination of French guttural r's and mistaken cockney slang, swinging his arms like a Mary Poppins chimney sweep

Arthur at this point had bowled over laughing at the pair of them. He'd heard Americans try a British accent before, but never really a Frenchman. This was all so surreal.

"It always astounds me how no matter how much time a foreigner spends around me, they always either come out with a posh or a cockney accent for their British impressions. Well, that or a weak Hugh Grant voice" Arthur managed, through his laughter.

"Well I bet you can't name any different French accents" Francis challenged.

Arthur pondered for a moment. "Well, obviously, there's a difference between Canadian French and  _French_  French, and I'm pretty sure there's a Parisien accent, and of course, the other regions have their own also, like-"

"OK we get it now can I please spin the bottle?!" Alfred interjected, already spinning the bottle.

It landed on Kiku, who instantly ducked his head in worry.

"Dare please, Alfred" he said quietly

"Don't sound so worried, Kiku, my dare is… take us all out to karaoke some time! Obviously after we've done the next song, otherwise nothing'll get done"

"That was such a boring dare Alfred, there was so much potential" Yao commented "I expected better of you, you're so young and 'hip'"

"For the last time, you guys are only a few years older than me, stop acting so overly mature!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know, I have no idea what a French person mocking a cockney accent badly sounds like, but in my head it sounds like the best possible thing ever, so I put it in. And that out-of-narrative paragraph was genuinely just because I didn't want to have to explain their initial reactions or how they began because I don't really care- also I really wanted to make it clear that the cliches are always intended in this fic. ALWAYS.
> 
> I'm thinking for every chapter there will be a song linked with it, either because thats the song the boyband did in the chapter, or because it suits the chapter's atmosphere. Maybe once it's done I'll make a playlist on 8tracks or something. That would be the weirdest playlist ever.


	11. The Follow-Up single

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah they do another song

After celebrating their first number one as a group and performing it on various US tv shows, they soon got to work on a follow up single. Monique had described to them that they should make this song darker, deeper and more powerful, to make sure the music world knows they're not a one-hit wonder. They had already been told to stay away from political or controversial themes that would be ill-advised for a global audience of different cultures, so for this song they're sticking with good old fashioned emotional themes. The group and their entourage of producers and organisers had returned to the New York apartment the non-american members had been staying in since they wrote their debut. The room they were now sat in had the large windows open to the breezy, noisy streets below while the constant buzz of PAs and professionals paced in and out while texting, organising and calling their various contacts. Unlike last time, Alfred was present for the writing process and was getting increasingly frustrated with it.

"I seriously don't get what you're talking about, man"

Arthur gave him a raised eyebrow and continued explaining to the others his idea for the next part of the song. They had already managed to write the lyrics to the chorus and the rest of the song,  _that_  Alfred could understand, but now they had moved onto music and he was  _stumped._ He wasn't really a sheet music kind of guy, and sure he could dabble on a few instruments, but he didn't learn a lick about the composing process, that was down to producers. So every word coming out of the more composing-inclined of the group (i.e. everyone other than himself) was mere nonsense to him. So as we're going from Alfred's perspective and I, the writer, also have next to no certain knowledge of real composition, this nonsense will be literal written nonsense so I don't have to look up what a musical bridge is.

"All I'm saying is that when the thing-me-bobs get to the whatchamacallit, it should start on the whatsit of G"

"I'm not sure, Arthur, it could be a little too special-musical-term for a general audience of thingys"

"I disagree, this kind of stuff could be good for our progression as a musical group"

Alfred zoned out after this point, and thought back to what he was thinking about ever since he first realised their importance- Kiku.

It's not that Alfred wasn't confident, oh no, Alfred was the most extroverted guy he knew, it was just nigh impossible for him to put his feelings into words. So imagine how difficult it is for  _me_  to write about them. I guess he was pretty confused at this point, because it was his first huge romantic inclination and it was for  _another guy_. He wasn't against that but he was still a little surprised about it, having grown up in a society that unfortunately regarded homosexuality as an abnormality. He had always figured that whoever he ends up with, it didn't matter what gender they were, because obviously he would love them and that was the whole point? He never really understood why people used to make a huge deal of that. He'd heard that that kind of mentality meant he was pansexual or something but he just got on without caring what he was, because of his career and such. Speaking of which,  _because_ of his career, he had to sing songs specifically catering to his fanbase of young teenage girls written by his seedy producers who thought that he had to sound like he was singing directly about every teenage female listener, and that every teenage female listener needed to feel valued and loved by some 19 year old they didn't know. This meant that Alfred was mostly forced into the state of mind that he was straight and had to cater for his consumer. But now he was in a group, he figured he was less in the spotlight and the consumer was a diverse spectrum of people, and they weren't pressured to write songs about a vague description of a woman. Their songs were all about making good music that makes people happy. Maybe this change of mentality cased him to re-assess his situation concerning his love life, and realise that he was living with someone he loved all along.

And Kiku really was something. Whenever Alfred was around him, which was most of the time, he wanted to make him happy. Because when he did, he felt a surge of joy rise from his toes to his chest and fingertips. The way Kiku laughed at his antics was earnest and meaningful, and Alfred loved to cause it. He loved the way they contrasted each other, the fact Alfred was so much taller than Kiku, Kiku's voice being deeper and calmer to Alfred's all-over-the-place squealing, it was as if Kiku kept him grounded, and helped him through the most important years of his life so far. He loved the way Kiku never intentionally made him feel like he was stupid or that his opinion or ideas weren't valid. It always seemed like he was genuinely interested and content to listen to what he has to say, something he felt was missing from his solo career. It suddenly became very apparent to Alfred that Kiku was important. Not just to him, but to his world. It also became apparent that the others had finished composing the song. Alfred had coincidentally zoned out at the exact same time that I ran out of nonsensical words to replace composing terminology.

What they had composed was certainly a deep sound, with pizzicato strings and a strong bass. As soon as they realised the music in a studio with a professional producer and musicians, they set about recording vocals. They each got a line of each verse, and the chorus was a hypnotising harmony of the five of them. As what had turned out to be tradition, Alfred had the first line.

'I know you've suffered, but I, don't want you to hide..'

He thought about Kiku and himself having to hide their living situation, Kiku having to hide from the media if they become a couple, Alfred hiding his own feelings- he knew it was cheesy to associate lyrics with his feelings but after his train of thought before he automatically made the link.

Ivan sang the next line, then Yao, then Francis, and Arthur had the lead in the harmony of the chorus, which Arthur and Francis' voices were more prominent until '-undisclosed desires in your heart' because Francis had the lowest voice, and his and Arthur's voices, as they were told by the producer, seemed to be more hypnotising when together. When they recorded the chorus, they made sure that they were perfectly in sync. This hypnotising effect seemed to become more and more prominent a they got further and further into production.

After a few days of post-production and mixing, Monique called in the renowned music video director/producer Roderich Edelstein, who she was good friends with, to start work on the video. After hearing the song and Monique's ideas, Roderich immediately began envisioning the video. It needed to be dramatic, and aesthetically intriguing to parallel the song, and after a few hours of storyboarding and planning, they began organising the shooting day.

* * *

When the band first stepped out of the car that had driven them to the shoot that morning, they were met with a large, old looking warehouse with blacked-out windows and a smiling Monique.

"Good morning! If you haven't heard already, I managed to get THE Roderich Edelstein to direct this video for you today!"

Francis looked confused. "But I thought you two were already friends?"

"Oui but he has never offered to direct any of my projects' videos!"

"But that means he didn't like the BTT!" Francis replied, offended

"Oh don't feel too bad, your songs were never artsy enough for Roderich, he's a bit elitist for most europop"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?!"

Once she led them inside they were instantly hit with the enormity and darkness of the warehouse. The only things visible were a vast shallow pool lit up by a bright spotlight suspended directly above the centre of it via a small crane contraption, and a massive cubic tank of water surrounded by various lights and camera equipment.

Arthur instantly paled upon sight of the water.

"Greetings. I believe you are zee artists that created zis song?" inquired a haughty voice from the darkness.

"Ah, good morning Roderich, I see you're still a fan of scaring your clients through the use of darkness" Monique answered, cheerily.

"I do apologise if I did scare any of you, I was merely carried away by the drama of the set-up. Isn't it wonderful?" He said, gesturing to the tanks and equipment.

"It's certainly something" Yao replied, unsure.

"We'll just get you into your costumes and we'll start in the shallow tank first shall we?" Roderich asked, as if it was a question, because as soon as he finished talking he clapped twice and a small swarm of what were presumably costume fitters and designers and make-up artists suddenly came forth from the shadows around where Roderich had emerged and hustled the band away to the far side of the room, where they were taken into a side room one at a time to be made up. Surprisingly, Alfred was first to go in.

Upon entering the comparatively bright room, Alfred was instantly sat down in a chair and the make-up artists got to work. After a minute, Alfred thought they should be finished, because they'd caked him in as much foundation etc as usual, but they just kept going. And going. When they started applying silver flecks and paint, he began to get unnerved. Eventually, it had developed into a mystical silvery artwork around his eyes and drifting to his cheeks, which were contoured in an ethereal dusting of more silver and a light blue. Once that had been finished, and he thought he was about to be dressed, his chair was tipped back and he was met with a stern make-up artist's face.

"you wear contacts yes." he stated, in what should have been a questioning tone.

"uuh, yeah, yeah I do?" Alfred replied, in what should have been an answering tone.

"Take 'm out."

Alfred didn't want to ask why, because the man's expression was the most serious thing he'd ever seen. He took out his contact lenses and leaned back again. Almost immediately, the make-up artist applied a different set of contacts and tipped his chair up again. After blinking a few times he then saw that the contact lenses made his irises bigger and a brighter blue, and the pupils were now ellipses, like a cat, but in this case he looked more... alien.

"COOL! I LOVE ALIENS!" Alfred exclaimed.

"That wasn't th' point but sure" The make-up artist mumbled.

"Yeah, but still, WOW, thank you, uh, what's your name?"

"Berwald"

"Thanks Berwald, I always wanted to dress up like an alien!"

"That wasn't-"

But Alfred had already got up and was whisked off to be fitted in his costume.

The costume could barely be called an outfit at all, it was mostly large swathes of blue-ish opalescent cloth draped on his various appendages, secured via some magic costume designer secret I don't know about. He also had some skin coloured swim trunks on underneath, in case you were worried about that.

When he left the room the group were all looking at him in confused awe.

Alfred looked at them back "I guess Roderich has some kind of alien thing planned... WHICH IS FREAKIN' COOL"

He was then taken to the shallow pool where he was told to lie down in the water while Roderich and his swarm did their thing. He laid down and found that the water only came up to behind his ears and left the front half of his body above the water. They adjusted the cloths so they floated around in the water around his torso and poured some more silver flakes into the water. Once the shot was set he was told to sing along to the track for his lyrics he sang throughout the song, and the chorus. They would edit the shots later obviously.

Ivan was next to emerge from the room, clad in metres of opalescent white sheer fabric and his now freakishly white eyes were adorned with small pearls in swirling patterns, like porcelain tears. His eyes  _were_ freakishly white, as the usually pale grey irises were now the same as the whites in his eyes and the pupils were black ellipses. He not only looked alien, he looked ghostly.

While Ivan did his shots in the shallow pool, Yao was made up. When he came out, his hair was out of it's usual high bun and was flowing down around his shoulders. His eyes were now a deep black and were wider in diameter, almost demon-like, and he had a thin but dramatic line of gold eyeliner on each eye and a deep red line along the top of the gold ones. He was wearing swathes of sheer deep red cloth cloaked around his smaller frame.

Francis was next, which left Arthur sat by the door, with a half-wet Alfred and Ivan comparing face make-up like trading cards. He looked anxiously to the tank and sighed. He's going to need to tell someone sooner or later. But first was the shallow pool, so he'll get through that first. Yao was being filmed now, surrounded by floating red petals to match his cloths.

Francis promptly glided out of the room, draped in deep indigo/purple sheer cloth, his eyes without pupils- somehow they managed to get contacts that cover the pupils- and they were deeper blue, with purple and indigo swirled with a hint of glitter, made to look like blue nebulas. They also made the diameter of his irises wider, so he looked like he was in a perpetual state of omniscience. His eye-make-up consisted of various jewels and silver flakes arranged into a symmetrical constellation.

Arthur had barely any time to stare before he was ushered into the room for his own transformation.

Francis dipped his toes into the shallow depth of water. Said water was now scattered with silver flakes again and small jewels, like on his face. The water wasn't too cold, so there wouldn't be any goosebumps on camera, but the general atmosphere of the room was chilling by itself. Despite the moderately large amount of people present, the noise they were making was only in hushed murmurs and shuffling footsteps and the darkness of the room hid their bodies. As a result of this Francis got the feeling he was in some kind of horror film. As he laid down the water crept up his back slowly, causing him to shiver slightly. Seconds later the door to the make-up/costume room opened and a now-in-costume Arthur emerged. He was dressed in a deep shimmering green cloth, that had glimmers of gold iridescence weaved in, and his face make-up seemed to mirror Francis' except it had gold flakes and gems instead of silver. His eye contacts also covered his pupils, and were an even brighter green than before, with swirls of gold and other greens, in the same way Francis' were. His eyebrows also seemed to have been shaped so that instead of curving down on the outside, his eyebrows slanted like Spock's but not quite as weird-looking if you get what i'm saying. They looked alien though, and that was the point. His hair was pushed back in a way that made him look positively ethereal. To summarise, Arthur looked super cool, and Francis was totally digging it. Unfortunately, while Francis was taking it all in, he was supposed to be lying down in the water and not craning his neck up to look at Arthur, so when Roderich called his name to snap out of it, he jumped so much that he slipped off of his elbows and hit the base of the pool with a splash.

Francis and then Arthur finished their shallow pool shots, which involved a lot of staring deep into the camera and close ups of their eyes moving, and then everyone's attention turned to the larger tank. You'd think that with that amount of water, it would look cloudy blue-green, but the room was set up specifically that the water was clear, and anyone swimming in it would appear to be floating in nothing against a black background. Roderich was really a dramatic guy.

Arthur found his towel robe and put it on, careful not to mess up any body paint or his outfit. He needed to find someone who he could confide in but he couldn't see very well, since his contacts covered his pupils he was semi-blind, and that paired with the extremely dark room made it damn near impossible to find anyone specific. He could just make out a shape of someone who seemed to be dressed in the cloths the band was adorned in so he stumbled over towards them.

"Hello? Who is this I'm talking to? I can't exactly see very well with these things in my eyes"

"Arthur?" Inquired the easily recognisable voice of a certain Frenchman, "I seem to be in the same boat as you right now, since they managed to give us the same kind of contacts, c'est ridicule"

Arthur shuffled his feet nervously. "Uh, I need to talk to someone about something, urgent"

"And you could could only find me, ouais?"

"Obviously. The thing is, I, uh... can't go in the tank."

Francis' expression shifted to confusion, "Pourquoi pas?"

Arthur looked over to the tank, to Alfred's water-treading form, suspended in the expanse of water with his blue 'clothes' floating around him. He wasn't alone in the tank, for at the edge there was a diver with an oxygen tank ready for when it's needed that Alfred would swim over to between takes. However, this reassurance of safety did nothing to quell Arthur's worries.

He looked back to the blurry figure of Francis. "I can't go in because... because- well to put it one way, I'm not exactly... the, uh, strongest swimmer."

"You can't swim." Francis looked at him seriously.

Arthur raised his eyebrows. "You're not laughing at me?"

"Why would I? Swimming isn't exactly losing your virginity- and even then it's nothing to make fun of- if you hadn't learnt how to swim then there has to be a serious reason behind it. And it had to be serious if you were willing to tell me of all people. I'm not as crass as you think I am, Arthur."

Arthur looked back in a slight state of shock. That was an unusual turn of character for the Frenchman who literally giggled for 5 minutes at Ivan tripping up over his own scarf the other day.

He coughed. "Um, well, what am I going to do then? I can't learn to swim in half an hour can I"

Francis pondered this for a few seconds. "Hmm...I guess..I could go in with you?"

"What?! Why would I poss-" Arthur started before seeing what Francis was getting at "Oh! Because we basically share the chorus anyway, right?"

"Oui, I could go talk to Roderich about it now if you want"

"Yeah, go, go he's right there now" Arthur gently shoved him in Roderich's general direction.

Arthur crossed his fingers as Francis walked over and started to converse with the Austrian in hushed tones. It was a relief that somebody understood his predicament, even if it was that ostentatious prick, now all he needed was Roderich to let both of them in at the same time. It felt weird, sharing information that personal with someone he didn't even get along with, let alone only met a couple of months ago or so. What also felt weird was the decrease in actual arguments between the two of them recently. Initially, they couldn't last a whole conversation without a sarcastic comment or petty jab toward the other, now they're able to be around each other for hours with only the occasional semi-playful banter. It certainly helps because really, they've only just begun as a band. The only reason that Arthur joined in the first place was his brother being a dick and deciding for him, and after meeting the rest of them deciding that the project was actually really huge, he figured that it would be easier to stay and put up with characters like Francis and Alfred than to abandon and potentially compromise the whole thing for everyone else. And without this band, he wouldn't have made friends like Kiku, with whom after the party he had made sure to meet up and keep in touch. Ivan and Yao, Arthur had decided, were good people and were definitely growing to become his friends, and he was warming to Alfred's constant spiritedness and enthusiasm. Francis was a whole different story now he knows something he has kept secret from everyone other than his family. Now he knows, he now is on a different level of trust with him- although, he doesn't know any of Francis' secrets yet - but as the phrase goes, keep your enemies closer.

Francis turned to look over to Arthur and gave him a little thumbs-up and a grin while Roderich walked back to the set. Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he strolled back over to him.

"I told him that I thought it would be better if we shared the tank because of our chorus, and that there weren't any shots of more than one person yet, so people won't get the sense of it being a band rather than 5 singers having a swim."

"And you didn't mention the whole 'can't swim' thing?"

"Do you think I'm that stupid rosbif?" Francis scoffed.

"Well you never know, frog" Arthur smirked. In a way, bringing back the jibes was their way of showing appreciation without losing face, or getting any sappier than it had already.

After half a hour, both Ivan and Yao had finished their shots and were sitting by a heater in their dry clothes, talking animatedly about what they think the video's going to be like, what kind of song will the next one be, what should they have for dinner. Roderich had called Francis and Arthur over to the tank, telling everyone that he's had a change of plan, and explained why he thinks it would be better for them both to be in the tank. Luckily, Roderich was pretentious enough to take Francis's apparent idea and use it as his own, so nothing seemed weird about it.

When they got to the top of the stairs along the side of the tank, the diver told them to stay up to 2 metres below the surface and what signals to use in an emergency etc. The music began playing for them to try to mouth along to, but they knew they wouldn't be able to hear well in the water. Arthur sat on the edge and dropped his legs in. He wasn't scared, but only nervous about people noticing his lack of proficiency. But all he had to do was sink and Francis would guide him to where he needed to go, he just needed to act like he knew what he was doing. So with that thought he slipped into the water and surprised Francis, who thought he would take longer, and hadn't got in yet. Knowing he had to stop him drowning, he hastily dropped in as well.

Upon plunging their heads into the water, the water instantly muffled and the tank seemed a world away from the outside. Francis grasped Arthur's arm and guided him to the glass where the cameras were poised on the other side. The song was more audible here, and they could make out the sound their own voices singing it. Roderich had put the chorus on loop so that they can do multiple takes, so they hadn't actually missed their cue. Francis looked Arthur in the eyes, checking if he was okay. He'd told him how to tread water before they got in, because he can't hold onto him the whole time, and Arthur was already sort of familiar with treading water from the many times his brothers had pushed him into water as a kid. It wasn't meant in a harmful way, as they were always in the water with him to keep him alive, and they tended to be on fun days out when they were on holidays from their various boarding schools. Rest assured they haven't been in the water for at least 30 seconds yet so they aren't drowning after holding their breath for so long while I write about Arthur's weird upbringing, the divergence from the plot wasn't in real time, otherwise they'd definitely be dead by now. But they aren't.

When the chorus began again they began to mouth the words while looking intensely at each other, as directed.

_'I want to reconcile the violence in your heart..'_

_'I want to recognise your beauty's not just a mask..'_

_'I want to exorcise the demons from your past..'  
_

_'I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires from your heart'_

After a second of continued staring, they remembered that human's need oxygen and they hadn't had any for a good 30 seconds straight, so Francis grabbed Arthur and swam to the oxygen tank. Luckily they hadn't drowned, but instead they learned the fun fact that it turns out they nearly drowned because they were caught up in each other's eyes. Or they nearly drowned because Roderich had a penchant for dangerous music videos. Either way, now they've done it once, they know what not to do next time.

They took one last deep breath from the oxygen and swam to the middle again. This time around, they used more gestures, for instance, Francis put his hand to his chest when he mouthed 'heart', Arthur covered his eyes with his hands and slowly moved them away with the lyric 'beauty's not just a mask', and both of them just generally moved and swayed more. They also shot some of their lines from the verses too. After each take they got oxygen and carried on until Roderich signalled them to get out.

Francis reached for Arthur's arm again, but accidentally grasped his hand and pulled him up. He knew he had done it, but he couldn't seem to do anything about it without making it obvious to Arthur that he'd noticed and making it awkward. Also, he sort of liked it; he was an affectionate guy, but hadn't been in such close contact with anyone for months now, so that must be why he felt his stomach drop and cheeks get warmer, right? It can't be anything to do with that insufferable  _imbécile,_ can it?

They clambered out and pulled the now-wet cloth out after them. It clung to their torsos, and it made them shiver. In the seconds between them getting out and someone providing them with towels and towel-robes, they may or may not have sneaked glances at each other's now visible frame. Arthur was slim, but with some muscle that came from brotherly rough-housing and packing up instruments and music equipment on early tours. He had narrow hips and narrower legs that were long and straight. Francis had a toned torso and had a slight curve of his hips. To Arthur's surprise, his legs were oddly feminine.

They rejoined the others after putting on the robes and going down the stairs.

"Nice job, guys! I had no idea that you two would have to go in the tank together, but it totally worked!" Alfred chirped

Yao looked up from the magazine he found "Yeah I thought you'd try to drown each other or something"

"Roderich was complimenting you but I don't think he knows you can't hear him inside the tank" added Ivan

"Well I hope he's not having any delusions of grandeur because I don't want to have done all that for a shit music video" Arthur quipped

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Monique, appearing behind them, making them all jump "The shots look wonderful, very avant garde. Now go change and we'll go back"

Arthur and Francis swivelled round to head to the room they were dressed in but were once again met with the stern blue eyes of Berwald. The tall blonde looked at them for a second, then whipped out a polaroid camera and in a swift moment and a flash he had taken pictures of their faces.

"Needed a picture. Lean forw'rd."

Both Arthur and Francis knew from before that they just needed to do what he says, so they did. Berwald tipped their heads back and effortlessly took out their contacts and placed them in a small case in his pocket.

"There y'go. Now go change."

Berwald seemed emotionless, but it turns out that he has at least one emotion: pride, in his own work, or maybe it was sentimentality, perhaps he enjoyed his time working on this video, perhaps not. We may never know, for he is unfortunately not a protagonist of this story.

* * *

Once they got back, there was pizza and various other take-outs waiting for them, as they'd had a long day of shooting, and were exhausted, so Monique called ahead and organised it. Alfred barged through the door first after smelling the food he had been hungry for for a while now.

"Aw yiss pizza  _and_ Chinese  _and_ Indian?! That's crazy!"

Arthur breathed in heavily "I have been  _dying_  for a curry since I came to America"

"You know, usually I would resent this mockery of Chinese cuisine you serve in foil and boxes but I am too hungry to care" Yao half-whined.

Francis looked at the piles of take-out with a grimace "You guys know I can actually cook right? Like,  _really_  cook. Actual food."

"I do not think they are caring, Francis" Ivan smiled, patting Francis on the back as he passed him through the doorway to join the others dishing up the food.

Francis shrugged and sat down, helping himself to some prawn crackers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! that's a lot of words compared some of the earlier ones right?
> 
> Usually I would have written some long winded passage about how the music video plays out but I can't be bothered and I'd rather the reader pictures what they think looks really cool in their head and just imagine that.
> 
> Also I do NOT recommend mouthing along to the chorus while holding your breath to see if it's possible because it's not really. You can, but it gets painful, so just pretend that humans in this universe can hold their breath for longer or something, or just ignore it
> 
> Thanks for reading this far! It's been a long effort, but believe it or not, there is a lot to go. I think I've planned out until chapter 20 or maybe more, stick with it, I've been looking forward to writing the next chapter for a while now, it's going to be so fun :)
> 
> Again, reviews are always treasured and helpful, so write one if you want :D

**Author's Note:**

> Ok it's my first story, I am aware it could be written better, perhaps I will edit it
> 
> Yeah so this will hopefully be a long story, the first couple of chapters will be introducing the backgrounds of the characters, and then after that there will be, and this is a warning, uses of songs that already exist
> 
> A03 EDIT: I'm finally posting it here! And somehow I will be updating it for the first time in months at some point, so look forward to that! Oh, and forgive the quality, it will hopefully get better as you go through it, it is my first fic after all.  
> AND just a warning- it does look like a lot of chapters, but like 5 of these are these kind of introduction things, so you could probably skim read them if you're that impatient.  
> Enjoy!


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